


A Very Kinky Christmas

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Series: Christmas Drabble Day 2018 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Christmas Romance, F/M, Secret Santa, Sex Toys, kinky gifts, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-24 12:22:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17100512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: anonymous  asked:Christmas Drabble: Steve Rogers receives a holiday-themed thong as a gag gift... hilarity ensues with lots of spiked eggnog to lower inhibitions.





	A Very Kinky Christmas

* * *

This year for Christmas the team had decided instead of traditional gifts they’d do something different. It would be Secret Santa with a twist. Seven gag gifts leading up to the final gift - a real one - with the giver revealed on Christmas morning.

For Steve, it was seven days of curious embarrassment.

Day one rolled around, and people were laughing about the ridiculous gifts they were getting. Bruce’s package had contained a set of shorts that said they’d stretch wide enough to fit the Hulk before shrinking back to Bruce size. Someone had given Bucky an oilcan the same as Dorothy had used on the Tin Man in Wizard of Oz. It went on like that, each having found a gift outside their door, or sitting on the kitchen island at breakfast. All but Steve.

After breakfast, he returned to his room to change for the gym, and paused in the threshold for a package wrapped in red was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. It was small, and he shut the door behind him before picking up the rattling box.

Carefully working off the lid, Steve stared into it and frowned. “Furry handcuffs?” And bright blue at that. He picked them out and hefted them in his hand. They weren't even good quality handcuffs. What the hell were they for?

A quiet knock came at his door, and he dropped the handcuffs back in the box before answering it. “Hey, Cherry.”

Cherry - Cherrybomb - Tanner had come to them through the regular channels. Her experience with incendiaries and chemical weapon disarmament, and her ability to absorb and redirect their blasts and create mini-explosions like the snap of a pop gun, had earned her, her nickname - along with the sexy red lips she never left home without. They could be going into a fight in a mud pit and she’d still slick on that sinful colour.

“Hi, Steve,” she smiled shyly. “You didn't say what you got for your first gift. I was worried someone screwed up and your name somehow got missed, so here.” She held out a plate of his favourite fudge.

Steve leaned against the door frame and pulled the box out from behind his back. “As much as I want that fudge, looks like my gift just arrived late.”

“Oh.” She seemed disappointed. “What you get?”

A sly smile curled his lips. “I’ll show you if I can have the fudge.”

Cherry laughed but followed him into his room when Steve stepped back. “Here. Now, lemme see!” He took the plate and held out the box only for her to snort a giggle. “Fuzzy handcuffs! How kinky of you.”

“Kinky?” He stared down into the box. “Is this a sex thing?”

A burst of laughter escaped her as she plucked them from the box. “It sure is.”

“Jesus, save me,” he groaned and ate a piece of fudge, his face on fire.

“Aw, c’mon, Cap. It looks like someone thinks you need a little slap with your tickle.” She bit her lip, but it did nothing to stop the giggle from escaping as she twirled the furry blue cuff around her finger. “Unless you’re not into the tickle at all?”

He darted a glance her way. “Are you implying something?”

She shrugged. “You don’t date. I’m not surprised people are curious.”

He rolled his eyes and stole the cuffs back. “Just cause I haven’t doesn’t mean I never have.”

“Steve.” Sadness darkened her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up Peggy.”

He hadn’t even been thinking of Peggy standing there looking at Cherry. “S’okay, doll.”

“Anyways, I’ve got to get going. Vision is going to arm bombs while I disarm as practice! See you later!” She waved and skipped toward the door.

“Don’t blow yourself up,” he cautioned.

A shimmery bubble appeared around her. “When have I ever?”

“There was that one time in Moscow...” He chuckled when she rolled her eyes and trotted out the door.

***

Day two of the exchange had him arriving at breakfast without a new gift. He refused to tell anyone what his first gift was, causing Natasha to eye him suspiciously. Someone had gotten her a collar with a bell on it, sending all of them into fits of giggles because they'd all teased her about being too damn quiet. A steering wheel with “car not included” on the label was waiting for Sam, and he immediately glowered at Bucky who held up his hands and proclaimed his innocence.

Steve hurried through breakfast and back to his room, wondering if gift number two was waiting. Sure enough, this time a package in green sat on the floor. Again he shut the door and quickly opened the gift, only to find a silver ring inside. He had no idea what it was, but pulled it from the box and looked it over. 

A tentative knock had him stuffing the ring in his pocket. “Come in.”

Cherry stuck her head in the door. “And?”

“I have no idea.” He hung his head but peeked at her through his lashes. “Help an old man out?”

She chuckled and ducked through the door, making sure it closed behind her. “Whatcha get?”

“This.” He dug the ring out of his pocket.

A frown creased her forehead, pulling her sculpted brows together beneath her fringe of honey brown bangs. Then, understanding dawned, and she snickered as she plucked it from his fingers. “Apparently they really think you need to get laid. That’s a cock ring. Ooh!” She clicked a little button on the side and humming filled the room. “It vibrates. Forcefully. Mm.” She licked her lips and grinned. “Nice.”

Steve refused to acknowledge the shot of lust that fired through his veins, but it appeared his brain, and his tongue had shorted out when he said, “Jokes on them. It won’t fit.”

Cherry gasped, and her head lifted with a snap. She swallowed thickly, a tint of pink coming to her cheeks, though her blush had nothing on the red now screaming up his neck to fill his face.

“They’re, um, meant to be snug,” she murmured.

“Still won’t fit.”

“Damn, son.” Cherry clicked the vibration off and handed it back. “Too bad. That’s a nice one. It seems your Secret Santa thinks you’re on the Naughty List.”

“My Secret Santa’s not careful _they’ll_  wind up on the Naughty List.”

She giggled and headed for the door. “Can’t wait to see what they give you tomorrow.”

***

Day three, four, five, and six saw him the proud new owner of a spreader bar, nipple clamps, paddle, and a butt plug in shining silver that had his shield boldly printed on the end of it. Cherry had laughed like a loon at that one, wondering if there were such things made with the other Avengers symbols on them. She'd then promptly commandeered his laptop to do the research. What they’d found after a Google search had put them both into fits of giggles, though Steve wondered if his face would become permanently red when the dildos had popped up.

She’d been sitting at his desk and smirked over her shoulder at him when the red, white, and blue cock had appeared. “Still too small?”

He was in too deep to be more than mildly embarrassed now and gave her a shit-eating grin in return. “Way too small.”

A flicker of appreciation warmed her eyes, her tongue darted out to wet her lip, and she sucked the lower one between her teeth as she looked him over. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”

Now it was day seven, and he opened the door with Cherry hot on his heels. He’d been trying to figure out who the hell his Secret Santa was, but it had been hopeless. It didn’t matter if he lingered, everyone was at breakfast when he arrived, and still there when he left. He hadn’t a clue who it was, but he’d gotten to spend seven days of private, ridiculously intimate moments with Cherry and no one was the wiser to the pile of sex toys hidden in his wall safe. A wall safe not even Natasha could crack.

The last package - decorated with Santa wrapping paper and a bright red bow he made quick work of removing- had soft fabric inside, green and a little sparkly with sequins. When he tugged it from the tissue, it fell open, and his eyes widened in horror. “Oh, _hell_ no!”

Cherry burst out laughing at the sight of the spangly thong with its seasonal green tree. “Oh, my God! That’s priceless!” Her peals of laughter rang through the room.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Steve grumbled.

“C’mon, Steve! It’s funny.” She snagged it from him then giggled all the harder. “Holy shit! It lights up!” She pressed something on the back, and the tree was suddenly flashing, then she dropped it down to press to her hips and wiggled the thong back and forth. “But I might have to guess the sizing could be an issue,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “I’m not amused.”

“Oh, come on! You made it through six days of sex toys with hardly a peep of protest, but a _thong_ is your breaking point?” She turned it off, balled it up, and threw it at him. “That’s prudish, Steve. Besides, it’s festive.”

“Then you wear it.”

“‘Fraid I don’t have the right equipment to fill out the package in the front.” She smirked at him and arched a teasing brow. “And I already have festive underwear.”

Intrigued, Steve purred, “Do tell?”

She chuckled but shook her head. “It’s a shame, though,” she said as she headed for the door and cast a smirk back at him. “I figured out who your Secret Santa is. I was going to tell you until you turned into a giant party pooper.”

The door banged shut when Steve slammed his hand against it before she could get it open more than an inch. “Who?”

Cherry turned to face him and bit her lip, peering up at him from behind long lashes. Those luscious red lips were like the skin of a juicy apple he wanted to sink his teeth in to. “I’ll tell you if you wear the thong.”

“Cherry.”

She leaned against the door completely unconcerned by his growl. “Tonight, at Tony’s party. That way, you can know in advance and talk to them about these _gifts_ before tomorrow morning. Unless you _want_ it publicly acknowledge you’ve now got a rather extensive toy collection in your wall safe?”

“The balls on you,” Steve muttered, shaking his head. “All I gotta do is wear the damn thing to Tony’s party, and you’ll tell me?”

“Yup!” She popped the ‘P.’

“I could always _say_ I’m wearing it and wear boxers instead.”

She straightened off the door, her body but a scant inch from his as she lifted her face and smiled. “You could, but you won’t. I know you, Steve. If you make a promise, you keep it. Unless you want me checking for myself?” She skimmed a nail up the thigh of his jeans and tucked the digit in his front pocket. “I can promise you’ll enjoy it if I do.”

“Cherrybomb,” he purred.

Her finger crooked and pulled him closer, so they were pressed together at the waist. “C’mon, Captain. You never know. Maybe you’ll like it.”

“Fine. But you’d better be right about my Secret Santa.”

She smiled, her red lips parting on a sensual grin as she slowly drew her finger from his pocket and stroked it up his chest. “Until tonight… Captain.” She placed a little pressure on the finger resting between his pecs and he stepped back, allowing her to slip out the door.

***

Steve stared at the green scrap of fabric in his hands and shook his head in dismay. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he wanted to know who the heck was behind all these gifts. The last thing he wanted was for people to find out what had been waiting for him in his room these last seven days.

Fresh out of the shower, he slipped the stupid thing up his legs and grunted when it snugged between his cheeks. It barely covered his package and gave him the insane desire to manscape, a term he knew only because Tony had explained it. In detail.

Steve hurried to finish dressing, finding the way his pants rubbed on his naked ass a little disconcerting but not altogether unpleasant. It was like going commando, only not, something he did in his sweats when he wasn’t planning on leaving his room again that night. But a glance in the mirror was all he need to be sure no one would be the wiser to his current underwear situation. As long as it didn’t ride up all night, he'd probably be fine.

The halls were quiet when he left his room. Steve was later to the party than he'd planned thanks to a last minute phone call from Fury to clarify something Steve had put in a mission report. It was kind of nice though, the peacefulness before the chaos of a Tony party. The music was usually too loud and the lights too crazy, but when Steve walked off the elevator, the live band took him by surprise.

It was more in keeping with the kind of dances he’d gone to back in the day. A woman sang sultry, and low and people danced with their sweethearts. The lights were soft and mostly made of twinkling white Christmas ones, and there were fewer people than he'd expected. The team were all in attendance, along with the support staff, but usually where there would be another hundred plus people Steve didn't know and had never worked with, tonight the guest list appeared to top out at a hundred.

It was nice, intimate, and had Pepper written all over it.

Mistletoe hung from slowly moving drones, likely being run by Friday, and had many a couple smooching on the dance floor. But what caught his eye was the sight of Cherry wrapped in a stunning red dress the colour of her mouth coming through the crowd with two glasses of eggnog. When she handed him the cup, he was thankful as his mouth had gone bone dry.

“Captain, looking debonair tonight. As per usual.” Per sounded more like purr and tightened his loins. “Do I need to ask?”

Steve chugged the entire glass of eggnog and wheezed at the burn. “Damn, what was in that?”

She blinked innocently. “Eggnog.”

“And?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She smiled, and it was sly, full of Cherry specific mischief. Her gaze travelled over him, leaving behind blazing trails of warmth as she made her way down to the swiftly tightening portion of his anatomy. “So, do I need to ask,” her whiskey brown eyes lifted back to his as she lifted her cup to her lips, “or should I just find out for myself?”

She sipped from her cup, watching him with amusement. There was a buzzing in his brain he couldn’t shake, but Steve couldn’t tell if it was the intoxicating Cherry or whatever had been in the eggnog. “No need to check.”

“I don’t know, Captain.” She stepped closer, her tall shoes bringing her mouth nice and close to his, and dragged her nail up his thigh for the second time that day. “Maybe I’d _like_ to see for myself?”

His hand found its way to her waist as he drew her closer, reducing the distance between them to none. “And just how would you go about checking with all these people watching?” Yes, it was definitely whatever she’d put in the eggnog.

“It wouldn’t take much.” She skimmed her finger higher and smiled. “No boxers or boxer briefs.”

“How can you tell?” Her nail scratched on his pant leg. “Ah, no seam.”

“Exactly. And even though I don’t take you for a man who wears tighty whities…” he scoffed a snort at that idea, “maybe I should check to be sure.”

Her single nail became all her nails when she slid her palm around his thigh and beneath his jacket to lightly drag them over his ass. It gave Steve the mental image of her doing so with him naked, straining over her. Rutting her into his mattress. Against the wall. On the floor. He didn’t care where just so long as her nails were urging him onward.

“Mm, Captain,” she purred. “How very naughty.”

“Cherry,” he groaned. “You gonna tease all night or tell me what I want to know?”

“In time. First, I want another eggnog, and I haven’t danced nearly enough.”

Without a further word, she stepped out of his hold and sashayed back onto the dance floor, effectively leaving him standing there stunned. “The hell?”

“Did Cherry just cop a feel, Steve?” Bucky asked sliding out of the shadows.

“If she did, it’s none of your business,” Steve grumbled and stalked off to get a drink. He was almost to the bar when Cherry appeared again, another glass of eggnog in her hand.

“Drink?”

She offered it, and Steve felt like Snow White when the witch offered her the apple. “What’s in it?”

“Eggnog.”

He wasn’t buying her innocent act. “You first.”

Cherry pouted. “I can’t believe you don’t trust me.” She sipped from the cup, then turned it as she held it out, so the red stain from her mouth was visible on the lip.

It was a challenge, drink from her mark, share an indirect kiss, or pussy out and turn the cup. Steve lifted it to his lips and drank from the place her mouth had been. He didn’t think it possible to taste the flavour of her lips on the rim, but he would be wrong when the sizzle of cinnamon warmed his taste buds. Then the alcohol in the cup kicked like a team of mules when it landed in his stomach. “Cherry. What’s in this eggnog?”

“It’s just eggnog, Steve,” she said. The little pout remained on her lips, making her appear soft and sad.  

He sucked back the rest of the eggnog and dropped both cups on a table. “Dance?”

Amusement twitched the pout from her lips, and she finished her cup before taking his offered hand. “If you insist.”

“I insist.” Steve led her into the dancers, for once not crowded together but with space to move. He swept her into his arms, head swimming, heart racing, nose so full of whatever perfume she had on. Warm and soft and just sexy as hell, he was locked into whatever spell she was weaving around him and couldn’t find the will to fight it.

Hand caught in his; she wrapped her other arm around his neck, her nails stroking up and down his nape as they swayed to the soft, tender music and the achy voice of the woman singing.

“These are some shenanigans you’re pulling, Cherrybomb,” Steve murmured against her ear. Her hair was swept up and back in waves and curls her wanted to get his hands in to.

Her cheek pressed to his. “Admit it. You’ve had fun this week.”

“Yeah, I have.”

“And the thong isn’t that bad is it?”

“Rides up a little.” Whatever had spiked the eggnog also appeared to have loosened his tongue. She giggled softly and tried to draw back, but Steve only held her tighter. “Who is it?”

“Who?”

He didn’t appreciate the amusement or the evasion. “You know who.”

This time she pulled her head back and smiled up at him. “Your Naughty Santa?”

Watching her mouth form the words “Naughty Santa” had the ache from earlier renewing in Steve’s loins. “Yeah,” he whispered, mouth dry and head swimming.

Her arm tightened to draw him closer as her gaze darted up above them. Steve didn’t have to look to hear the low buzz of the mistletoe drone. Then her warm whiskey eyes were locked with his as she brought her cherry red lips closer. “Your Secret Santa is…”

The drone slowed, and Steve could no longer resist the temptation of that mouth when an excuse to seize it hung over their heads. He pressed his lips to hers, a soft brush, slowly deepening until he had to release her hand to bury it in her hair and hold her still, refusing to let her draw away when he could savour every bit of cinnamon.

When, finally, he had to let them both breathe, he drew back, lips lingering until the last moment before parting. 

She took a shaky breath and whispered, “... me.”

“Little Cherrybomb,” he chuckled, resting their foreheads together. “How’d you do it?”

“Vision. He’d wait in the room below yours and phase the package through the floor for me.”

He shook his head. “You’re pretty cheeky there with them presents.”

A wicked smile preceded her soft giggle. “No, the cheek one here would be you, Captain Thong.”

“You gonna let me use those toys on you, dollface?” Steve asked boldly, hand running over her curves.

“Only if I get to see that thong live.”

“Deal.” He kissed her again, tasting eggnog and cinnamon and something else. “Who spiked the eggnog?”

“Thor. But only yours.”

“How in the hell are you not reeling? I’m riding the buzz already. You should be flat on your face after a sip of that flask of his.”

“I didn’t. Just brought the eggnog to my lip and let it rest there. Thor said that would be okay.”

Steve chuckled, unable to believe she tricked him so thoroughly. “You are one naughty Santa.”

She smiled up at him, all seductive heat. “You have no idea how naughty.”

“I think I have an idea. Seven days of sex toys aren’t exactly subtle.”

“I was never good at subtle.” She reached up and rubbed at his mouth. “I think you’re wearing more of my lipstick than I am.”

“Red is totally your colour, Cap,” Natasha smirked as she danced by on Sam’s arm.

Sam snickered. “About time you two clued in.”

“C’mon, Steve. I’ll help you get that off,” Cherry said, leading him toward the exit. Then she glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled. “In your room.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Steve dragged her close as the left, and whispered against her ear, “Besides, I think a demonstration on how to use those furry handcuffs is in order.”

Cherry laughed and smirked up at him. “Now who’s the naughty one?”

-The End-

 


End file.
